


Legacy

by mamadeb



Category: Anne Bishop - Black Jewels Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-20
Updated: 2009-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-04 19:18:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamadeb/pseuds/mamadeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaenelle does not belong to a long-lived race.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legacy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fic/gifts).



"You're the only one he trusts right now. The only one he'll listen to." Marian straightened her mourning dress. Her eyes were still bright red from crying.

Lucivar felt the same way. The loss was devastating to all of them, expected though it was. "He won't trust anyone. And there's nothing I can do to help him." He knew that, faced with a similar…no, he wouldn't think about it. He didn't need to. Marian would always be there, as long-lived as he was, and far younger.

"You can be there for him. In what ever way he needs from you. You're his brother, Lucivar. You're his flesh and blood, and you live. He needs to be with someone alive."

"He's too raw. He's dangerous." Lucivar could feel his arguments getting weaker and weaker. "And you know he's more powerful than I am. I'm only ebon-gray, and I'm no Black Widow."

"He won't hurt you. He's never hurt you." Marian folded her arms across her chest. "And we knew this was going to happen."  
\---

Daemon played with his wife's hair as they lay quietly in bed. She'd been in the mood for gentle lovemaking that night, again. There were more white strands, and he picked them out to look at.

"Please, don't." Jaenelle smoothed them back in. "They're not going to go away, you know."

"I know. It's…what it is. You're beautiful." She was, of course. She wasn't the girl he'd wed and worshipped forty years earlier. She was better, with a lifetime of joy and sorrow on her face, and the marks of childbirth and just living on her body. He could read all of what they'd shared, and feel it as a lifetime even if for him was just a moment.

He could make this moment last. He had to, for his own sanity. He would live in her time as much as he could, knowing he looked like his daughter's brother; his son's father.

She smiled at him. "I wish you were my mirror, my love. You've always been beautiful enough for the both of us." She leaned in for a kiss, letting her hands roam his body, reminding him that she owned him, and he responded as he always did, delighting in her touch. And soon, she was moaning his arms again, more beautiful than ever.

\---  
"She's beautiful! Let me hold her." Jaenelle reached out to the child in her daughter's arms.

"Are you sure, mother?" The black jewel gleamed in Rachlel's neck as she handed her own granddaughter over.

"I'm not going to drop her, darling." Jaenelle, despite her words, kept her seat as she cradled the baby in her arms - arms that did shake more than they should have. Marian gave her potions that helped sometimes, but not always. "Oh, look at her, Daemon. We have another little queen on our hands. Mark my words - she'll be black, too."

Daemon took the baby from her, looking as if he were holding his own baby. Next to her, Ureal leaned on his wife. He kept his red jewel hidden, but she could feel his power next to hers, no darker than amethyst. He'd had a riding accident not so long ago, and healing took longer as he grew older. She sometimes regretted that they took the chance after Rachlel proved to be long-lived like her father, but Ureal spent his life with a smile, blessed with the sweetest soul any Warlord ever held.

"She'll be more than that, my love." Daemon stroked the baby's cheek. "I think she'll be a true Witch." Everyone stared at him.

"Grandfather?" Rachlel's son reclaimed his daughter. "Are you sure?" He batted away a tiny fist.

"I am very sure, grandson." And Daemon smiled so brightly that Jaenelle felt warmed by it. That he directed the warmth towards the baby only made her glad. Their lovely granddaughter. Their Jaenelle.

\---

Rachlel closed the door. "She won't listen, father."

"You have to make her listen. You must!" Daemon paced and tossed his head. Rachlel's consort was a warlord prince, and she knew the signs of agitation and pain. It was frightening enough with Rafal, and his jewel was red. Her uncle Lucivar stood next to him, close enough to touch, but not touching.

"I tried. She knows demon-dead can be perfectly happy, but she refuses. She said that final death was good enough for Urial, it would be good enough for her." Urial had died in his wife's arms, a smile on his face, after an illness no one could cure. Daemon had raged for days, and Jaenelle had let him.

"I'll get Saetan. He can convince her." He began to reach for a black line to talk to his father.

Rachlel shook her head, touching his shoulder. "He's tried. Mother said he tried, too. She's not going to be demon-dead. She's lived enough. And, father, it feels wrong. She was Witch, and Witch needs to move on when her time is over." She wiped a tear from her face.

"I will not accept that. I will keep her here. I will NOT live without my queen!"

"Daemon, don't." Lucivar stood between her and her father. "This is Rachlel. Do not harm her."

"She will let my Jaenelle die forever! How can you allow that?" He turned to face him.

"Out of love for both of you." Lucivar's voice was calm. "And SHE would be angry. You do not want Jaenelle angry."

"I cannot live without her!" Despite his tone, Daemon looked quieter.

"You will, father. Little Jaenelle needs you."

He shook his head, and ran into his wife's bedroom, where she lay shrunken, asleep and beautiful.  
\---  
"You saw him at the funeral, Marian. He was moments from murder. He does not understand Jaenelle's decision, and it burns him. It burns all of us." Lucivar's wings spread and unspread with his pain and anxiety.

"Jaenelle was wise. Saetan saw that, and Rachlel. She was not meant to be with us a long time. Make your brother see that, Lucivar." Marian kept her wings demurely closed. He took strength and calm from her. "He needs a purpose, you know. He's been Jaenelle's Consort so long he doesn't know any other way. He needs something to do."

Lucivar knew that. Daemon needed to serve someone, some queen, or he was not a true warlord prince. He knew that from his own being. But who would take him on? He would be useless as a Consort for any other woman.

There were other roles…"I think I can do this. But it won't be easy. Daemon is unchecked now."

Marian kissed him. "You'll see, my dear. He'll listen and all will come right." He could see the fear in her eyes, despite her words.

"I hope you're right."

Lucivar left his home and took flight, but to see his niece and her family first.

Little Jaenelle preceded him into the Keep. Not so little anymore, with her great-grandmother gone and she herself tall and slender at the age of twelve, but Lucivar would think of her in no other way. She showed not a moment of fear, as befit what she was and who she would become.

"Great-grandfather?" She walked into Daemon's study with all the dignity her mourning gown and turned up hair would provide.

"Lucivar! Why did you bring this child here? Take her away now!" Daemon barely held himself in check.

"Because you need her, brother. You need her and she needs you." He watched the young girl walk close to Daemon, and held his breath. Rachlel would kill him if she were harmed. She said so.

"I need my wife! And I shall never have her again!" He rose and turned to leave.

"But, Great-grandfather. I need a Steward." Little Jaenelle perched on his desk.

"You…you're a …."

"I'm twelve, and I have had my courses twice already - and see?" She pulled a Black jewel from inside her modest neckline. I need to form a Court, and this land needs a Queen. Mother has her own Court. I'm ready. But I need you to be my Stewart. Please, Great-grandfather?" For a moment, Lucivar saw, not a young girl, but the Queen she already was becoming.

Daemon blinked, and reached out to her. Lucivar tensed, ready to defend, but none was needed. His brother smiled. "How could I say no? How soon will your mother let you move here?"

"My trunk is being packed now! Thank you, Great-grandfather!" Little Jaenelle kissed him. "I'll go wait for it and then find rooms. Not great-grandmother's, though." She ran out, a little girl again.

Lucivar moved closer. Daemon looked at him, all madness gone from his eyes. "She's not Jaenelle. She's herself. But she does need me."

"We all need you, my brother." And he pulled Daemon into his arms.


End file.
